The Forgotten
IÕm in this place. I have little food, I had an education, I am living, but my soul is dead. Depression conquered the good things in life. The Great Depression.
IÕm in an apartment. I used to live in a mansion. At least compared to this it was. ItÕs one room! We have a stove, and a broken oven. We donÕt even have a bed! We have potato sacks filled with hay. My parents get the top and I sleep by their feet. Usually I fall so I get the ground. For the record the ground is sometimes more suitable. Our blanket is a big shawl that used to be my motherÕs. Our pillows, are our hands. For a bathroom we have one toilet, and one bathtub, or you can call it a big clay pot with water from the shallow well.
At the well I meet my friends. Probably not friends like your friends. My friends are different, they are fake. Well, not in my mind. Imaginary friends. That is what I have. I've never had friends that other people can see. Only I can see my friends. That makes them special. Other people like Jessica Coultridge thinks that makes you dumb.
School, a place I took for granted, is where I met Jessica Coultridge. She tore me apart. Bit by bit each day she stole my confidence. She got more and more confident that she could completely ruin me and more and more mean. Meanwhile, I got less and less confident and less and less open. One thing I never did the rest of the year was talk. No where. Not once.
We have one window. It is quiet, too quiet. Mother walks in, depressed.
ÒMy article wasnÕt good enoughÓ. Both my parents are unemployed. I know that I will soon be
wearing rags, eating scraps, and be kicked out of my home.
ÒAwww. Mother I am so sorry.Ó I respond feeling bad for Mother and papa.
ÒNo honey you did not do anything wrong. Do not worry everything will get betterÓ She assured me. I hate it when she does that thing where she lies to me to make me feel better. Just tell me the truth.ÒOh look at the timeÓ She exclaims looking at her wrist as though it was a watch. ÒSoup KitchenÓ.
Soup kitchen is when the kindest people on earth spend their day helping people like me. The soup kitchen is a place where hobos, as we are called, went to get a bowl of soup and maybe a slice of bread. It kept us on our feet. Gave some people hope. Me, I had none left.
Papa works at the soup kitchen. He hands food out and gets 5 cents an hour. So much money. He also gets food and brings it home. By food I mean a few things left on the dishes.
I get a cent a walk. I walk a rich ladyÕs dog. I give it to Mother and Papa.
ÒHere you goÓ I hear a man say with a thump afterwards. I turn my head around fast and as I do, I hear ÒThank you very much sir.Ó
ÒOh thank you!Ó I basically yell to the man. I was so surprised. I have not talked to anyone but Mother and Papa all year. It is an improvement from the year before.
Realizing everyone here just heard me, I shrivel up and donÕt show my face.
When that spoon of soup goes into my mouth it is amazing. Flavor floods my mouth and my tastebuds are satisfied. My throat is warm because the soup is warm. My stomach grumbles because it is craving the soup. To other people soup kitchen has the worst food ever. To me and my family, it is better than dessert. Better than any food we have ever eaten. I know it is not, but it sure feels like it.
ÒMother?Ó I ask.
ÒYes HoneyÓ She answers.
ÒCan I go down to the well?Ó
ÒYes Honey, you canÓ.
I set my dishes down in a bowl of water so my dishes can get washed. I used to think it was gross, but now I do not really mind. At least I get food. I skip out the big giant wooden doors and inhale a deep breath of fresh air. I run to the well. Maya, my very best friend is there. She is sitting. Nobody can see her. Just me. I like it that way.
ÒMaurice! Maurice! Where are you? Maurice! Honey!Ó My over protective mother calls. She would do anything, even give me up just because it is best for me.
ÒWhat Mother?Ó I reply.
ÒOh honey, there you are! Come on we have to go to the houseÓ
ÒYou mean roomÓ I sass back.
ÒHoney, at least we have shelterÓ She tries to comfort me.
ÒA one room shelter!Ó I scream back and tears start flooding out of my eyes.
ÒHoney, be thankful. It is okayÓ. There is a long pause. We walk back to our house, my head resting on my mothers arm.
Once we get inside I sit on the ground. Mother leaves for her friends house. I just sit there thinking. No distractions. For a very long time. Suddenly I hear a pounding sound from upstairs. That is little Sally. She has no clue that soon she will be kicked out of her house and become an orphan. I donÕt know if that is going to happen to me either. I am scared just scared. I do not want to be forgotten, I want to live a happy life.
2 hours later mother storms in worry written all over her face.
ÒMother what is it? What is wrong?Ó I question worry spreading on my face. She only does this when she is completely terrified.
ÒLook at the time!Ó
ÒMother there is no clock!Ó I scream.
ÒLook at this watch!Ó
ÒSo what!Ó
ÒIt is 5:00!Ó
ÒYeah! Mother, please get to the point!Ó
ÒMaurice!Ó There was a long pause. The argument that rose in the air slowly dies down. It becomes quiet and somber. ÒPapa should be home by nowÓ.
An hour later mother comes up to me. She had the evening news right in her hand. A name that was very familiar to me was on the paper. Martin Samrock. He was walking home from soup kitchen and he was so tired he did not see the car coming down the street when he crossed. He passed. He is gone. Forever.
That night I sob myself to sleep. How! Why! IsnÕt my life hard enough! I complained in my head.
Later I am awaken by a loud blaring sound. Mama tells me to grab everything I can quickly. I smell smoke and immediately know. Our apartment is burning to the ground. It was one room, but now I want it more than anything. Not as much as papa but I want it a whole lot. I grab a picture of papa and the family. I take a blanket and a bowl. I charge down the stairs. I get down to the grass and watch my life tumble down in front of me. I run off and mother comes after me. ÒWhy! Why! Why! What did I do! What did I do!Ó I sobbed. I hear shoes coming and stomping after me. Mothers places her hands on my shoulders.
ÒHoney. Everything will be alright.Ó My mother assures me ÒI will do anything for you. I will make sure you are safe and, andÓ She starts to stutter ÒA, a, a, alive.Ó
ÒMother, would you give me up, for, for my safety?Ó
ÒI would do anything for your safety. Do you understand me?Ó
I nod my head thinking what it would be like if she gave me up. I am on the verge of tears.
In the next few hours I manage to cry myself to sleep. I am shivering because the grass is wet. I pull more of the blanket on me.
ÒOoow!Ó I exclaim. A rock hit my head. I move it and place my head back on the cold grass.
In the morning I awaken to birds chirping. I think I am camping with my father, then the memories come flooding back.
Mother goes for a stroll. She is looking for jobs. A few hours later she comes back. The same face that she had yesterday.
ÒHoney, I did not find any jobsÓ She tells me. ÒLetÕs go find some foodÓ.
We go searching for food. After our fail of trying to find food mother kneels down and breaks something to me.
ÒHoney, I cannot take care of you. We did not find any food, you should not have to live this way. You are nowÓ Her eyes turn red and she starts to tear up ÒYou are now an, an, an,Ó There is a long pause ÒYou are now an orphanÓ My heart shatters into pieces. ÒI will take youÓ ÒMother, can I take a picture of the family with me. I will never see you and, papa again.Ó ÒYes, you may, dearÓ. I take a photo of our whole family.
ÒYou ready?Ó
ÒNoÓ I reply, ÒI donÕt want to goÓ.
ÒHoney, you have to, I cannot take care of youÓ
Mother raps her arm around me and we walk to the orphanage.
ÒBye honeyÓ.
ÒI love you motherÓ I cry. My tears spill on my mothers shoulder.
ÒI love you MauriceÓ My mother whispers. I walk into the orphanage.
Now I need hope. Hope and just that.